


Through Heaven's Storm

by Drinia, TerraCrystallis



Category: Final Fantasy XIV, Shadowbringers - Fandom, Stormblood - Fandom
Genre: 18+, Anal Sex, Angst, Au Ra, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Boy Love, Canon Compliant, Collaboration, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoons, Drama, Garleans (Final Fantasy XIV), Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Male Slash, Miqo'te, NSFW, Ninja, Original Player Characters, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Smut, Stormblood, Xaela, Yaoi, long distance, shadowbringers, soulbound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 08:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18587248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drinia/pseuds/Drinia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraCrystallis/pseuds/TerraCrystallis
Summary: Demetria is a miqo'te Ninja recruited by the Scions who otherwise keeps to himself; Yarita (a Xaela) has also learned to survive on his own through trial and error across Eorzea & Othard's monster-infested terrains. Both have fettered the storms of life and loss; this story involves the breaking down of walls built up over a lifetime, and how two unique characters succumb to a bond that neither of them can ignore.For more, see Drinia. Will post a timeline for meetings when I put up more content. This story takes place in & contains Stormblood plot spoilers. [M/M][Yaoi][NSFW][Smut][18+]





	Through Heaven's Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drinia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drinia/gifts).



Deme licked his lips after a divine taste of plum sake and nodded at the vendor - his favourite in all of Limsa Lominsa who sold tinctures of the Far East, and...well, _sake._ He quickly pulled his mask up above his nose again and thanked the well-dressed Roe. He stashed the bottle, the liquid sloshing around in a deep pocket hidden beneath his black sash.

He dashed across the white stone of the upper decks; it was the best view of the stars besides the docks, but much less busy.

The locals knew him, but not anywhere near as well as he knew them. On the night following the return of at least a hundred Maelstrom recruits from Ishgard, however, he would watch; not about to partake in this fishbowl. His mask would not come off.

As he suspected, most of the returning mercenaries who had stepped onto the docks yesterday were in celebration; hardly anyone in sight was missing a tankard in one hand...or a woman, for that matter…

The slurring locals seemed tolerable enough for Deme to sit and not be approached by too many poor fools who didn’t know any better, so he shimmied down the scratchy white walls and found himself between both market lanes. After dusk, they were less  _ markets _ , and more open bar.

“Byrlmr,” a stocky Highlander said to his counterpart. “Why don’t you play the harp instead? You’re certainly better with that than whatever flute your trainer passed onto you!”

“...Oh,” said the slight Elezen. “Well,  _ thank _ you for that rather  _ kind _ suggestion. Maybe I  _ will  _ play the harp! And I’ll find me a sweet little Au’Raen girl, at that.” He smirked. “Plenty of them around lately, in case you hadn’t noticed.” 

Leaning against the market side of the wall, mere feet from the conversation, an Au Ra male sighed. Deme was distracted by the newcomer and his white hair; paler than the moon on that night. His black downward-turned horns proved him a Xaela...a Xaela keeping a well-hidden spear at his side; one too expensive for your average Maelstrom unit, swirling with a calm aetheric energy that would be much brighter when awoken in battle.

A Roe woman, rather blessed in the looks department, Deme thought, having an upturned nose and a smooth complexion, approached the Bard. She cleared her throat. “You  **do** know I’m  _ right _ here.”

The soles of Deme’s feet tingled. His oval-shaped pupils sharpened upon dilation and he rose like he’d been taught to on instinct over and over.

“Back off, wench! The man can decide what he wants for- Gah! Rhalgr’s Bolts!” 

Apparently his instincts had been dead-on, because as soon as Deme had begun to balance on his toes, the Xaela made a rush at the stocky midlander who had shoved the Roe woman back with beast-like hands.

A bottle smashed across the stone walkway and the Au Ra led his encounter with an agile sweep of his spear that knocked the Midlander down to the ground.

“What in the bloody void…?” the Highlander growled. He’d begun to wave his arms about as he realized he was unable to move.

“The only person you’re going to hurt if you don’t calm down is yourself,” the Xaela said with his hands flat across the Highlander’s collarbones, which were practically buried in muscle.

Deme carefully pulled the distraught Roe away from the crowd, making sure she was unharmed, but then another holler came from the direction of the market.

It was the Xaela this time, and the drunken Bard looked down in horror. 

“I-I’m...I’m so sorry!” the Bard cried. “He’s not usually like this! He didn’t mean anything!”

Deme made it back to them in a split second and pulled the Xaela back by his shoulder. The smashed bottle was in the Midlander’s now motionless hand, wet with wine-red blood. Sleepily, the Xaela looked at Deme. Deme pushed aside the Xaela’s long cream overcoat, revealing a growing bloodstain just below his ribs. 

With barely enough time for a sigh, Deme shifted his weight onto his back foot. The Xaela was slumped onto him, and Deme glanced to the corner where the Dragoon had stood, and where a bottle of portions for three men of his size sat with a small amount of liquid in the bottom.

And oh, how he could feel the eyes of the crowd on him through the silence. He mentally thanked his mask. Fastening the spear onto his back, he skirted away from the crowd with the stumbling and barely-conscious Au Ra attached to his shoulder. They reached a nearby aetheryte and with a flash of blue in his eyes, they were able to make an escape...though that exit was...anything but graceful.

  
  


The Hingan-style room was empty when Deme helped pull Yarita up and through the open balcony doors. As expected...it was Deme’s room, after all. 

He guided the taller, slender Au Ra to the bed and allowed him to sink into the blankets, his cheek turned sideways into the pillow. 

His back damp with sweat, Deme also allowed himself to fall back onto the soft mattress, with white blankets that reminded him of clouds and a thin sheet over top, black and decorative.

In a few moments, he had finally caught his breath.

“Will you at least tell me your  _ name _ since you now have the privilege of taking up a spot in my bed?”

“...Yarita.”

“...Hm?” An odd name for a Xaela, but Deme didn’t think much of it; it could’ve been a fake name for all he knew. “Ugh,” he groaned at the deep red spot across Yarita’s abdomen. “I have to dress your wound, or you’ll get blood everywhere. How’s your breathing? Is it the same?”

“Mm,” Yarita gave a lazy half-nod and Deme scanned the cramped rooftop bedroom for some alcohol, but he’d lost his own sake in the scuffle.

Deme hovered over top of Yarita, the movement of his feet weightless enough that Yarita barely noticed, his eyes gently closed.

_ ‘You’re lucky,’ _ Deme thought. Most people were unsettled by the turquoise glow in his eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think people mistrusted him because of his mask, but even without it on, people gawked at him. 

Deme grimaced and pressed a finger into the fresh blood of Yarita’s wound; it flowed at a slower rate, but the flow was steady. He couldn’t bring Yarita to a healer like this...or, at least, he wasn’t about to reveal himself to one. Too many healers around Limsa revelled in boasting about their own good deeds, gossipping about the carelessness of the unfortunate bastards who came to their aid.

Bowing his head, Deme closed his eyes and muttered a quick prayer, his hands inches above the wound. He peeked an eye open. The oozing blood remained, not drying up like he’d hoped.

_ ‘Seems like I don’t have much of a choice…’ _ he thought. His palms warmed as he expelled energy from them, until he was able to draw upon the aetheric field all around them. The misty green energy illuminated his face, gathering and swirling until it reached its prime, a healthy orb that fit in his palms. He lowered his hand to nestle the energy into the wound; the Au Ra exhaled and shifted around with half-lidded eyes.

“The bleeding’s stopped. I’d still advise you find a healer on the ‘morrow. You know...one who can actually  _ seal _ the cut.”

Yarita sighed; the deep vibrations from his diaphragm startled Deme, his feline-like ears perking up. Deme pulled back from where he hovered over the stocky Au Ra. ‘ _ What am I even thinking?’ _

Yarita’s horns, as black as oil, emitted a low buzzing sensation through the air. Deme’s eyebrow twitched.  _ ‘Is the pain really so bad?’ _ He moved, about to slide off of the bed to the floor, but Yarita leaned forwards in silence, far enough to grab Deme’s sides. 

Deme jumped a little, but he scoffed and pushed away the Xaela’s much larger hands. ‘ _ Maybe he’s always this aggressive. Maybe that’s how he got himself into this in the first place…’ _

Before Deme could slip away, Yarita reached out, roughly this time, and grabbed the miqo’te’s small thigh. The heated Au Ra rolled his hips, groaning as his spine pressed into the bed. His lips unconsciously fell open, the corners of his mouth upturned.

“You’re...getting a little too excited,” Deme cautioned, though he wasn’t sure who he was cautioning. “Lay here long enough and you’re bound to relax.”

“I  _ am _ relaxed.”

With the rolling movements underneath him, Deme blushed, the Xaela peering up at him through half-lidded eyes. Deme pulled his hips back, bringing himself to the foot of the bed. He stopped and noted the bulge in Yarita’s pants, having felt it beneath him moments before. 

The much taller Xaela sighed. He didn’t hesitate. He unzipped his pants and pulled his stiff cock out from underneath his underwear. Deme was surprised to find himself intimidated by the impressive size of Yarita’s cock, but the crooked black scales around his length complimented the bronze flesh Yarita had revealed between his legs. Deme’s cheeks became warm under the material of his mask. He curiously crawled over Yarita’s knees, wondering if the Xaela was patient enough to keep his eyes shut. The Xaela’s chest rose and fell at a calm pace, his hand resting with his thumb over the base of his hard cock. Certainly  _ comfortable _ for being in the bed of a complete stranger.

‘ _ Maybe it’s the alcohol _ ,’ Deme thought as his fingers absent-mindedly twisted around the base of his own cock. He squeezed hard, stifling the helpless sounds he made in his lonesome, but he was aware of his own breath becoming heavy. His eyes blinked closed and his soft ears moved back as, keeping a close grip, he smoothed his fingers up towards the tip. 

It had been too long since he’d partaken in the company of another willing body; a pleasant lover to lay with and bask in new scents...new and familiar sensations. He’d spent nights alone in his room, pretending his favourite toys were  _ more _ than just toys, twisting his hands around his cock for hours...frequently. His time alone had yet to come anywhere near the heart-jolting epics of rolling around in the sheets with another. 

‘... _ And an adventurer,’ _ Deme thought as he gazed at the shapely mounds of Yarita’s abs. He bit his lip. He’d never been with an Au Ra...and Yarita in particular had caught him unaware that he might find one of his race so enticing. 

Briefly, when Yarita had pinned down the pathetic man on the decks, Deme had caught a glimpse of the fierce, ice-blue rings in Yarita’s eyes. Umbral rings. He was alive with the assuredness a Xaela had been rumored to possess, but now Deme really saw it.

With his eyes on Yarita the entire time, Deme relieved his hand from his own cock, slowly removing the cloth mask that had concealed his face from the moment that dawn made light pour into his room that morning from the foggy waterscape outside. 

He leaned forwards. A string of spit dripped from his open mouth and down Yarita’s hard cock. Yarita twitched slightly in response, but his eyes remained closed.

Deme couldn’t help himself now; he’d planned on using his hands first, but he leaned in further towards Yarita’s waist, in time to allow his own saliva to pool over his tongue as it touched Yarita’s shaft. The Xaela groaned softly and shifted his legs, causing Deme’s body to move along with him on the small bed, but he remained balanced. Deme was unable to stifle the satisfied purrs that escaped his lips, making short licks up Yarita’s swollen length, the sensation lingering as the cool air brushed past the dampness his tongue left behind. He teased with small nibbles that sent shivers down Yarita’s spine and elicited curt _ ‘Mm’ _ s. Watching the tanned Au Ra beneath him, Deme’s lips grazed Yarita’s cock. He gave it small kisses and Yarita’s hands sprung outwards for something to grab onto, one of them landing on Deme’s inner thigh. He allowed it, for now. 

His lips slid around Yarita’s swollen tip with ease. He enjoyed the taste, sliding his tongue around Yarita’s pleasure in circles, and then he swallowed more of his twitching length. Moaning into his gestures, he bobbed his head upwards before he welcomed more cock into his mouth again. He paused as Yarita’s tip met with his throat, still watching the nuances of Yarita’s face as he enjoyed it. He could tell by the gentle squeezes of Yarita’s hand on his thigh when he wanted more, and when he was holding himself back, but Deme sucked away relentlessly. 

The corner of Yarita’s lips twitched, Deme admiring the impatience on the soft, but masculine curve from his brow and continuing down his flat cheeks. 

The Xaela gritted his teeth with the passionate sliding and moaning of Deme’s mouth over him, and Deme found his own eyes closing. Yarita yanked down on his hair, balling it up into his fist. He shoved Deme’s head down suddenly, forcing himself into Deme’s throat, but even then the Miqo’te moaned. 

Deme’s ears twitched at Yarita’s horns humming again. It was a sound that satisfied him; both calming, but also stirring a strange excitement within his already stimulated limbs. 

Controlling the movements of Deme’s throat up and down, he forced him to take the full length of his cock a few more times. When he released Deme, he gasped for air, spit dangling from his mouth. With tears wetting his eyes from the sheer force, Deme glared and caught his breath, looking down at his own cock that had been starved for attention. He splayed his fingers down the base of his cock, enough for his fingertips to prod at his balls. He gripped his shaft and pumped his hand up and down over his overly-teased cock with a throaty and desperate moan. He opened his eyes to Yarita watching him, and his face grew hot, quickly turning away and reaching around the bed for his mask. 

He squatted on both legs, his body facing away from Yarita, where both of them drank up the view of the waterfalls and starlit sky surrounding Limsa.

Using his tail for balance, Deme’s fur had become puffed up in the heat, and having teased himself with Yarita for so long. As he’d planned, were he to find Yarita staring back at him, he tied his black mask back over his chin. He gently pushed his thumb and index finger around the highest part of his tip and moaned as he squeezed out a glistening bead of cum, sighing as the pleasure made his body warm from the inside out. As he licked his lips, he could still taste Yarita’s cum; it was fresh and tangy - the flavour pleasing. With every breath, he drowned in the scent of Yarita’s cock underneath his mask, and it drove him crazy, sharpening all of his feral instincts. He wondered if Yarita felt the same; his hormones running wild, as thirsty for more as the warriors of his tribe who had thirsted in bloodlust.

Deme was pulled back by his hips until the pulse of Yarita’s cock rubbed against his ass and up his spine. He glanced behind him as his tail curved back over Yarita’s leg. It had become oddly pacified whenever Yarita touched him, and a shiver wound its way up his body, making his breath unsteady. 

“Let go,” he said, but his voice came out softer than even he had expected. 

He wrapped his hands around Yarita’s wrists, moving them away without much argument on Yarita’s behalf. 

The moisture from Yarita’s cock wet his backside, with Deme seated on top of his legs. His hands wrapped tightly around his own cock, and he jerked them up and down his agonizing stiffness roughly. His whimpers were needy; he was beyond frustrated, and at this point, unable to think straight. 

Yarita allowed Deme’s tail to whip softly against his exposed thighs, and he found his fingers sifting through the plentiful fur. He thought the colour was cute, smirking to himself. The same colour as the timeless sands in the desert beyond Ul’dah’s high walls. His tribe had always associated those sands with the Underworld; Nald as its dealer. Deme had certainly gone out of his way to help Yarita, but he wondered what mischief lay underneath the Miqo’te’s mask. 

Deme’s tail slipped out of Yarita’s fingers, and Yarita raised his eyebrow as Deme leaned forwards and away from him. His tail waved and curled over Deme’s ass as Yarita continued to silently question his intent.

“You know…” Yarita muttered, his weakness audible in the volume of his voice. “It might help if you put it  _ inside _ you.”

Deme’s tail bristled and he glared sideways, but looking down at his pink, swollen tip he found it more and more difficult not to entertain the idea of giving himself up to Yarita. He was handsome...willing, and Deme found even the slightest of his touches alluring and sensual.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated, & I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Drinia runs a Tumblr for Demita in case you can't get enough of them, & you can find us on Instagram too:
> 
> https://demita-ffxiv.tumblr.com  
> https://instagram.com/ffxiv.deme


End file.
